In five independent experiments the publishers rejected literary classics submitted as work of unknown authors
http://ecclesiastes911.net/publishers_rejected_classics_in_disguise/
Reading that article makes me wonder what a publisher would do if he received a manuscript from an unknown name that was clearly recognized as 100% plagiarism. “Throw it away and don’t dignify it with a response” seems like a definite possibility.
Welcome back, it’s been a while.
I am sad to hear that slush pile readers do not recognize genuine talent.
Nothing new. This test/prank has been pulled many times since the 1930s.
But yes, we never hear about the times some editor writes back, “Mr. Hemingway’s estate would like to have a word with you…”
And it’s a lot less about talent that what can be sold to today’s market. Slush readers aren’t looking for the next Joseph Conrad or even the next Stephen King; they’re looking for the next Rowling/Patterson/Patterson/Patterson.
A classic and a work written by an author who has written a classic are two separate things. This prank only really works if you choose a relatively unknown work by a famous author. Those unknown works are probably more widely read than other works from the same time period, but only because they are attached to that author, not because they are classics in their own right.
The test using “Steps” proved absolutely nothing. He has no idea whether the editors recognized it or not.
Say you’re an editor. You get manuscripts from a lot of people (at that point in time). Most take rejection reasonably, but there are always a few nutcases who will write back about how you failed to recognize their genius and that’s why books are so bad. So you discover that someone has gone to the trouble to type up a particular novel and sent it to you. This may be a clever trick to get you to recognize the manuscript, or it may be a real wacko who thinks plagiarism is a way of life. More likely, it’s the wacko, so you take out a rejection form and send the thing back. If you must comment, you are as noncommittal as possible. Otherwise, the wacko may show up at your door with a chainsaw.
The fact that these manuscripts were ignored is exactly what would happen if the publisher recognized the book. The “returned unopened” either means the publisher was not accepting over-the-transom manuscripts, or that word got around that the author was sending Steps to editors, and it’s best to just ignore him.
I seem to remember one of the rejections for Steps likened the book to Jerzy Kosinsky. The person performing the hoax claimed this showed just how little they knew. More likely, the editor was saying, “I see what you’re doing here.”
It’s the same for the others. The results are exactly what would have happened if they recognized what the hoaxer had done. And once they recognized the hoax and hoaxer, word would get around. Editors and agent meet outside work, and say, “You wouldn’t believe what this nutcase tried to do…”
Also, in almost any list of the biggest mistakes made by first-time novelists, “imitating the classics” heads the list. What sold then doesn’t sell now, and what has become a classic often didn’t sell well at the beginning anyway.
PS It’s Houghton Mifflin for chrissake. :smack:
Oh, don’t get all miffy about it.
I was being more houghty.
Oh internets, we love ye.
Or the estate of Todd Thromberry (2 points to those catching the reference)
Indeed. Welcome back Don Simus. Are you going to buffet us with links to studies proving that there is no such thing as Art and Artists?
Except for the whole fact that there is.
Sorry.
ETA: if you can please summarize, in one sentence, what value you think comes from the conclusion that there is no absolute standard for Art and Artists, I would really appreciate hearing it. Let’s say you’re right: now what?
The page you’re linking to is yours, correct? Don’t you think you should disclose that?
Nothing new to you? Perhaps, you can name some experiments between 1930 and 1970 not mentioned in the article?
Nothing offhand, I’ve just read stories in the memoirs of various publishing figures of the 1930s-50s.
True. Some of these works probably would have been rejected back when they were originally submitted if they hadn’t been written by established authors. The original editors might have felt the submitted works wouldn’t sell on their own merits but would do okay because the author had a built-in fan base. A “new” submission of the same work would be justifiably rejected because it lacked this author value.
I thought it was that there’s no such thing as expertise in any endeavor at all…
Sigh. What is this supposed to prove… Let’s consider one of their tests:
*In 1991 David Wilkening, a reporter for the Orlando magazine The Weekly, asked his secretary to retype Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings’ novel ‘‘The Yearling.’’ He submitted it, pretending to be the author, under the title ‘‘A Cracker Comes of Age’’ to 22 publishers. Though ‘‘The Yearling’’ won a Pulitzer Prize in 1939, ‘‘A Cracker Comes of Age’’ was a failure. Thirteen of the publishers had rejected the novel, while eight did not reply at all. Even the original publisher, Scribner, had rejected the book. Another rejection came from Doubleday. Only one publisher, Pineapple Press, had recognized the book. *
Is this supposed to demonstrate that none of them recognised great writing? Because it doesn’t.
-
Eight did not reply at all. Quite likely, they actually recognised the original.
-
the changed title may have something to do with it. How seriously should they take a novel using a word like *Cracker *in the title?
-
Presumably the novel won a Pulitzer for making some sort of statement. Maybe in 1931 the statement was bold and original. Maybe a lot of people read it, and said “I’ve never thought about it like that before.” Then 50 years later, the same statement is trite and obvious, or possibly offensive to modern thought.
-
likewise the plot may have been copied a hundred times in 50 years. Even if the publishers don’t know the original, they’ve seen the imitators and are left thinking “oh no, not this again.”
-
Perhaps the prose style is 50 years out of fashion and may not appeal to modern audiences.
So, really there are a lot of reasons why it might be rejected, and says nothing about the publishers.
Circa 1990, some wag resubmitted the screenplay for Casablanca (under the play’s original title, “Everybody Comes to Rick’s”) to all the major studios. Most passed on it, one or two nibbled. One replied “LOVE the script! Have some ideas on casting. Unfortunately, most of the actors are dead.”